


Sideflight

by StarlightCaptivator



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Prime
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Grevious Misunderstadings, Megatron is mean to baby robots, Sparklings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-06
Updated: 2016-04-23
Packaged: 2018-03-10 11:20:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3288443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarlightCaptivator/pseuds/StarlightCaptivator
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As the autobots learn, the Forge of Solus Prime can forge more than just tools.</p><p>Rating for later chapters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Forged

It was an off day for the last of the Primes.

Optimus had come to from his recharge stiff in his berth this morning, his internals telling him the local Earth time was already nearing midday.

His joints felt older than they should have and creaked - even groaned softly as he sat himself up on the sizable berth and held his heavy helm in his servos. He still wasn’t used to this newer, bigger frame.

Primus, he must have had a glitch develop in his recharge software sometime in the last few cycles; again and again he re-experienced his time as a youngling Orion Pax in Iacon, barely out of his sparkling armor and already fascinated with code and history.

The ongoing war even took it’s toll on this steadfast Prime.

Optimus mused to himself as he offlined his optics. It was almost as if he could feel Cybertron calling out to him as if it was hauntingly just out of reach inside the images of a bright and happy time, where one wouldn’t need raise a canon except to the occasional scraplet.

This musing came to be cut short, as the agitated knock of one of his oldest comrades came from his berthroom door. He lifted his head and onlined his optics as the door creaked open just a tad. Right away his internals and the Primus-forsaken noises that came from the cracked door told him the reason for this wake-up call.

“Optimus?” Ratchet irritatedly bit out through clenched denta. He spoke his name loudly enough to be heard over Miko’s latest interpretation of something called ‘Slash Monkey’, which Miko insisted to all of them was one of the highest forms of art among humanity. “The children are beginning to arrive,” he continued. “And so far seem to be quite impatient for another demonstration of the forge.”

Ah, yes. The Forge of Solus Prime. In his daze he had nearly forgotten.

Optimus rose from the berth, and made his way to where Ratchet stood beyond his door. He opened it up fully, so he could place his servo on the shorter ‘bot’s shoulder.

“Take a breem, old friend. I’ll handle the children,” he murmured, watching as Ratchet’s chassis relaxed just a bit at this metaphorical transference of power. Despite how much his steadfast medic actually did care about their human compatriots, even he could be overwhelmed by their rambunctiousness.

Personally Optimus felt that Miko reminded Ratchet of their mutual fast talking friend, Swerve.

As he moved past Ratchet, he left a low priority ping in their personal comm-line that he could probably use a diagnostics scan later.

He moved to the source of the screech metal, and as he came out into the common room it blessedly stopped.

“Heya big boss man!” Miko exclaimed, leaping forward off of the amplifier with her axe in hand. “You slept in today! I didn’t know robots could sleep in! Do you dream of electric sheep? Do you have a giant bed? Can I jump on it?” She leapt forwards with each question, strumming a rough strum on her electric guitar before she took it off, _finally_. “Are you gonna **smash** some stuff into existence now?”

Optimus could help but smile at the enthusiasm of his young friend. “That is the plan. Do the others plan on joining us today?” He motioned to the way out as he spoke.

“’Course they do!” She exclaimed in an incredulous tone, thrusting her fists up to bring them right back down in a dual smashing motion. “They would have to be absolutely bananas to miss _this_ today.”

Optimus was half sure she just wanted to watch any potential forging for the sheer idea of smashing something into existence. “Maggie left the forge behind when he took Smokey on patrol this morning!” She added.

That took the Prime a moment to put together - she meant Ultra Magnus of course, and Smokescreen. Optimus as sure his strict second in command wouldn’t be too pleased about that new development.

“And what of the others?” Optimus rumbled, bringing his servo from his chin to an itch at his helm.

“Bulk was going to the vault for the hammer, but Fowler followed after and probably held him up.” Miko answered, motioning towards the open office door on the upper tier of the hangar. “Wheeljack went for a drive pretty quickly when Mags suggested the patrol, and Bee n’ Arcee should be here aaaaanny minute with the rest of Team Prime: B side~!”

True to her words, it was just a few minutes later that Bee pulled into the base with Raf in tow. He said his good mornings and asked after the others before setting up his laptop in it’s usual spot. By the time Jack and Acree arrived, with the not unexpected tagalong of one June Darby, Ratchet had taken his restful moments and was explaining to Raf what they were hoping to be accomplished today.

When all of the kids had gathered and settled (and Ratchet was watching over after gathering scrap bits), Bulkhead retrieved the Forge from its resting place. Outwardly it appeared inert for a few moments, as Optimus focused energy through the Matrix of Leadership and down his arm to the massive hammer.

The hammer sparkled and whirled to life in his servo, and as he brought down the first swing of the hammer he felt that familiar pull from earlier in the recesses from his processor. He concentrated down as well as he could through the matrix and prompted that primary objective of being to build a replacement part for Ratchet’s meager stores.

He was only half aware of Miko’s excited jumping up and down with each successive swing and blow, of the pile of metals and unfixable material coming together as Raf watched with rapt attention, and Jack stood as if he was overseeing the whole operation himself.

Unbidden, a memory file pulled up in his HUD, of a time in the Iaconian academy when he, as Orion Pax, had barely been out of his bitlet stage. The instructor for his class, an old archivist, was praising him for his reading and recall skills and had called him one of the brightest young sparks in the class.

Warmth and nostalgia diffused rapidly through his spark and in turn flowed through the forge and into the unformed pile on the ground. A sizable burst of light and thick, electrical smelling steam knocked the Prime off-balance. Ratchet quickly scooped the children up and away from the small blast and turned away from them and towards Darby.

Optimus used the forge to steady himself as he was brought completely back to the present. “…was it supposed to do that?” He heard Jack asking from the other side of Ratchet. He started to wave his free servo to try to clear some of the stream. He heard Bumblebee give a negative response to his inquiry, as he approached slowly, flashing his lights to see if he could see through the haze.

“Someone, open the main door.” Optimus ordered as the young scout reached him, snapping back into his right frame of mind. He heard footsteps move for the door and wrench it open. Within minutes the sheer thickness of the haze was began to fade.

His troops pinged into him with all clears on their ends and he was able to relax, until Bee gave a series of alarmed beeps from his right. Staring back at them from inside the clearing fog was a pair of small, golden flashing optics from where the pile he had been forging sat, mimicking Bee’s own lights. Right away, Optimus realized what was sitting there in the refuse he had been working.

“ _Primus.”_ Of all things, he had forged a sparking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, thanks for reading!
> 
> I haven't written anything resembling fanfic in years, so be kind. -Sweats-
> 
> My beta and I were discussing the amusing concept of accidental baby, and I relented and started to write this to many harassing chants of 'do it.'
> 
> I hope you enjoy reading this as I have writing it so far.
> 
> Updates will be sporadic.


	2. Bedlam

Once the fog cleared, the base went into pandemonium. EM fields flared out with shock, awe, surprise, and even a touch of horror. Battle protocols offlined one by one once everyone realized there was no imminent danger to bot or human.

Ratchet was so shocked he couldn’t speak for a few clicks at the sight of the tiny Cybertronian, and for a moment Optimus had thought that he had blown a fuse, or crashed his vocalizer entirely.

The bitlet had turned it’s little optics to Ratchet after he had released the humans and come close, cooing softly. It giggled when his scanner clicked on and went over it’s body once or twice, and tiny headfins twitched as it reached out for the much larger mech’s arm. He thought he would terminate right there when it wiggled tiny jet wings at him.

After he had managed to reset himself to some modicum of functionality, Ratchet picked the little one up, supporting it behind it’s backside and backstrut, and looked to his compatriots in awe. The others began to slowly approach, doing their best not to startle the young jetframe bitlet.

Bee beeped and trilled his wonder after lowering the volume on his vocalizer. The infant creature whipped it’s little head around to look at the young scout, digging tiny clawed servos into Ratchet’s arm to try to hoist it’s body up on wobbly arms.

The bitlet had armor plating which while at the moment was too delicate for anything but the mildest of scrapes, it would obviously end up shiny and strong, with blacks, reds and blues.

It’s resemblance to Optimus was undeniable in thin, short audial antennae on the sides of the tiny helm, and Arcee pointed this out in a murmur.

Aside from the differently colored optics, it’s little faceplates were soft and trusting, thick optic ridges in miniature framed the face of a potential of a tiny black-helmed Orion Pax, brought back from the annals of time.

This was where the similarities tapered off, however. It’s body featured less of the blocky-heavy shapes and angles of the Prime and instead was more streamlined to suit a bot that may one day take flight in a sleek jetform.

It chirred gently as Ratchet gently moved it about to give a more complete exam.

The others present tall enough to see came in yet closer to get a better look at the newspark. Frantic human requests to see were quelled with the promise of a turn to see in due time.

“Looks like everything is in order with this little mech.” Ratchet said, following a long trademark long exvent. He turned his attention to Optimus, and gave him the look that meant he was going to get sat down and _spoken_ to in due time.

“I suppose since this is _your_ creation, you will be the one to give him a designation.” Ratchet grumbled, as he moved and hoisted the bitlet to offer to Optimus now. The little flier blinked his optics up at the far larger bot before slowly raising his arms in the request to be taken and held.

After a frozen moment, he reached out with caution to take the small seeker. Miniature against his frame, the little one beeped happily and bunted his head gently against the Prime’s windshield which caused a soft ‘ting’ sound as he made contact. Bulkhead let out a quiet exvent that sounded suspiciously like an ‘Awwwww’. He was wont to agree with him, as an odd feeling took appeared to take hold in his spark.

Under the gaze of everyone present, Optimus wracked his processors. He looked from the tiny creature to his team, and took a moment to clear his vocalizer and focus his words.

He held the tiny flier in both of his servos and away from his body as he spoke.

“Ah-hem. By the power vested in me by the Matrix of Leadership, I award you the designation ‘Sideflight’.” He paused for a moment in an attempt to modulate his tone from the too serious and formal cadence it had taken, as everyone around quietly watched. “Erm… Welcome to the Autobots.”

Somewhere on the side, Jack made a joke about Magnus and paperwork about the Prime’s last comment.

 

* * *

 

* * *

 

Of course, Miko had been excited to near-delirium to finally see the infant Cybertronian. Bulkhead had volunteered to sit on the floor of the hangar and wrangle the little seeker from the hold of the prime so that the humans could come up close and see. Arcee and Bumblebee kept nearby too,

Ratchet had attempted to warn them thoroughly about the little Cybertronian not knowing his strength, but Raf had cut him off.

“But he was…. Er…… _born_ here, so wouldn’t that make him an Earthling?” He quirked an eyebrow as he spoke. Ratchet stared at him for a moment, cutting out his vocalizer mid-word.

He stuttered and sputtered a moment. “An _Earthling_? Of all the preposterous things you could suggest!” His protests were good natured, however biting his tone, and he took his step back to let the others interact.

Bulkead kept a firm servo around Sideflight’s middle and kept his other free in case he would need to come to someone’s rescue. Quick on her feet Miko had no issue dodging the tiny bot’s little clawed hands- he was fascinated with her, her quick and bright movements- not to mention her constant stream of chatter.

With Miko dodging around the little creature, it gave the others the chance to come in close for a better look. The adult humans came in to look at the immature plating in specific; June commented on Sideflight’s striking similarity to a human infant- aside from the advanced muscle development and apparent cognition.

Agent Fowler was a little more hesitant to come near the bot, but no one blamed him for it. His history with strange Cybertronians wasn’t exactly one that result in his bodily safety.

Miko moved well out of reach rang of the sparkling and looked up to Optimus, who remained off to the side, apparently lost in his own thoughts. Miko swept her view from him to Sideflight, and her face screwed up in an idea she couldn’t get past.

“So does that mean Optimus is the mom? Or is he the dad?”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter two! This is a little shorter than the last one, but I'm aiming for about 1k an installment.....
> 
> And still this hasn't earned it's rating. 
> 
> That'll happen in later chapters. :D
> 
> [Click here](http://meridianbarony.tumblr.com/private/112727617780/tumblr_nkpknugpZ61r0ujbu) if you'd like to see a sketch I did of the little guy! 
> 
> Thanks for reading! Your comments and kudos are always appreciated.


	3. Halcyon

Jack’s words ended up being prophetic, which was unfortunate for the processor of one Optimus Prime. Magnus had gotten into rambling on about Cybertronian construction protocols and the obsolescence and dangers of having something as small and helpless as Sideflight around. Luckily for the humans, Ultra Magnus and Smokescreen had returned after they had retired to their quarters for the night.

Raf’s innocent reporting of Optimus welcoming the little one into the Autobots sent the second-in-command into a whole new rant about  _those_  protocols, and how he’d have to write up all new ones to fit this situation in case it ever happened again.

The tiny creature in question had stared up at Ultra Magnus when he had started his lecturing, but had ended up falling into an adorable recharge against the new bot that was holding him- Smokescreen.

“And he’s insubordinate too! Brandless  _and_  in recharge in the presence of a superior officer”

 

“It’s not exactly like that’s too hard to do, Mags.” The truck-former whipped around to look at the hanger door.

“Wheeljack. Past curfew again- why am I not surprised?” He derided dryly. “Plus, you ran out on today’s patrol! I ought to-“

“What?  _Spank me?”_  He moved from where he had been leaning on the doorframe to come to the small group, dismissing Magus’ attitude with a wave as he moved to take a look at the Sparkling.

 

“So  _this_  is the little troublemaker Bulk told me about.” He reached and placed a finger on top of Sideflight’s squat little crest. The little jet blinked awake blearily at Wheeljack and regarded him for a moment before dropping back off to sleep.

“You realize that he’s basically a civvie… right Commander? Like those honorary enforcers or junior elite guard members. Right now you’re just antagonizing the Bossbot. And Smokescreen.”

 

Ultra Magnus paused and stood straighter for a moment before his face shifted through a few thoughtful expressions. He turned to Optimus, who remained calm in the face of Magnus' lecturing. He smiled a wan smile at his old friend and made just the smallest of a shrugging motion to indicate the truth of Wheeljack's statement. Magnus' sizable shoulders slumped just a wee bit and he conceded his reaction in a curt apology and hasty retreat. After retrieving the tired bitlet from the nearly just as tired Smokescreen with a warm dismissal and goodnight, Optimus sought out Ratchet to unload his processor. 

 

 

The next few days were strangely halcyon in quality. Sideflight was a very well behaved sparkling. He proved himself to be an ongoing lesson for all of the autobots, and June Darby was his assistant once she realized just how similar to a human baby he seemed to be and was instrumental in helping Optimus adjust to the little seeker's strange ways. His awkwardness wasn't missed by the perceptive human, who called him on it unintentionally when the three of them were by themselves. 

 

"You know, Optimus, by the way you act around little Sideflight, you make it seem like you've never seen a Cybertronian baby at all before." Her tone had been the motherly teasing tone often heard used on and around her son and his friends, but it gave the Prime pause- and this was picked up right away. 

 

By the time Optimus directed his gaze to his small friend, his expression was one of guilt- as if he was doing wrong. 

 

"That is true, I have not." He replied, voice softening. "By the time I came online, the government of Cybertron had decided that the production of sparklings were too great of a cost in terms of energy and materials to raise from infancy." The little seeker in question chirped to himself softly and remained fascinated by his creator's fingers' hinges. 

 

"Most of the mechanisms brought online were done so in a frame aged so that they'd be an adult by the time the training for their function was completed. Though it wasn't always even that simple, in every case. I only read about sparklings born to the higher caste families in my time, and even that fell out in and out of fashion." 

 

He sighs softly. "I can't help but feel that this job is not one suited to me." 

 

June came over and gave one of his leg tires a sympathetic pat. "That isn't too unusual a feeling, big guy. Lots of new parents feel that way." He listened intently, as she continued. "When Jack was a baby, I was desperately afraid I would do something to hurt him in those first few weeks- not to mention the panic I had at the sheer  _idea_  that he could be ill." June took a seat next to him. "My point is, Optimus, that there are very few of us - human or... other...  that is actually  _ready_  for parenthood when it happens to us. You'll do fine." 

 

He allowed himself to believe her.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter this time! I participated in Camp Nanowrimo this year, so that took up all of my writing time for the last month or so. 
> 
> (I wasn't kidding when I said sporadic updates~) 
> 
> I appreciate the comments and kudos from you all, thanks as always for reading! :D 
> 
> Next chapter- Decepticons happen


	4. Exposure

When it became apparent that Optimus Prime's duties became harder for him on top of juggling Sideflight's care, Ultra Magnus dolled out sparkling watch times throughout duty shifts. The humans got along with the little jet well, with June there to give advice and soothe frazzled capacitors when tiny things happened that sent the bots into hysterics.  Only a few incidents occurred during the first few days of this time, but it was enough to stick Bumblebee and Smokescreen on the same watch shift for the little flier.

During his fifth watch of the newest Autobot, Wheeljack looked up to catch the little guy staring out the windows built into the hangar doors. He peeped softly as if he was talking to himself, his wing nubs slow flexed up and down.

An idea popped to the forefront of Wheeljack's processor.

He moved his way to the console set up to leave a note. He picked Sideflight right up, and departed the hangar for the Jackhammer. In the short walk between, the little flier stretched his tiny servos up towards the sky in wonder.

Inside, Wheeljack affixed the tiny bot to the passenger seat and activated the Jackhammer's thrusters for a slow, controlled ascent.

Sideflight's eyes blew huge. He began to babble excitedly, his gaze sweeping back and forth from Wheeljack to the approaching sky.

When they arrived in a secluded locale, Wheeljack set the ship's autopilot into a gentle holding pattern. He let Sideflight down to see the view and the little one scramble-crawled his way to the curved windshield proper and pressed himself against it with a happy trill. Wheeljack couldn't help his grin - he took most of the rest of his shift tinkering in the back of his ship before flying on back to hand the little one back to his creator.

 

The vehicon triple-checked his readings before turning around to speak up. "My Lord, my instruments are showing an unencrypted - and presumably unaligned Cybertronian signal on the move." He held perfectly still as Megatron in all his terrifying silver mass made his way to his station and silently regarded the data on the screen. The vehicon relaxed when Megatron stood back straight, and ordered Soundwave to send out Laserbeak along with a detachment of stealthy seeker scouts.

This was taking too long, and the scouting party was on their way back to report after the signal had inexplicably dropped off the radar. Megatron had expected to see his air commander whipping into the bridge like a rust storm breems ago - shouting obscenities and with a field deliciously ripe with fury that Megatron dare have S _oundwave_  of all mecha to order  _his_  seekers.

He pinged the ship for Starscream's location and it reported the Commander to be on the move towards the landing strip - with quite a few of his troops behind him. Suspicions skyrocketed. Treachery from Starscream was one thing, but to have the rest of the seekers with him? Megatron would not stand for mutiny. At a silent request ping, Soundwave patched him into the audio feed from the flight deck as the detachment returned.

A surge of voices assaulted his audials as cacophonous and excited Vosian overtook him. He dialed back the volume, and switched language packs before listening in again. Starscream had gotten the crowd to quiet down.

"L30, please step forwards and tell your comrades what you told me." Megatron glanced at Soundwave, who sent a confirmation packet about some quick chatter on a thought to be defunct line. A seeker reset his vocalizer before speaking in Vosian

"As we told our esteemed Winglord," Megatron's expression grew darker as the idea of mutiny grew stronger. "On this planet exists something of greatest value to our kind- a seekerling." Laserbeak had made it back to the bridge,  and was reconnecting with her host as the seeker spoke through loud murmurs of wonder. "Most unfortunately, the Autobot grounders have him!" The flight deck erupted once more into a racket.

A picture set pinged through with a high priority alert and Megatron's vents stalled before he saw red. The happy tiny face that could've been Orion Pax on a seeker frame peeked out of the Wrecker's ship down at the world below.

Oh, Starscream would  _pay for this dearly._

 

Wheeljack was paying dearly for his impulsiveness. He had handed Sideflight back off to his grateful creator and turned right around to the sour face of Ultra Magnus staring down at him.

"One of the native officers tells me you were seen taking the sparkling off base today. Do you have anything to say for yourself, soldier?"

Jackie rolled his optics, shrugged his shoulders casually. "I did - but he needed it. He's a flier - he needs to fly. He was perfectly safe in the Jackhammer."

Magnus' frown remained steadfast. "That's not the point, Wheeljack. The point is that you took him out without permission. What if a Decepticon had been out there? What if he tried to fly and got hurt? What if he got hungry? "

Wheeljack's expression shifted from glazed-annoyed to a dangerous-amused. The sort of amused that usually was followed up by an explosion.

"Are we feeling a little...  _parental_  today, sir~?"

The shocked stiffening of the Commander's stance told Wheeljack in no uncertain terms that he had won this round, and he walked away from him with a boisterous laugh.

 

Soon, there was no question about it, Wheeljack's unauthorized outing had a significant effect on the littlest Autobot. He began trying to get out every time he noticed someone leaving base, and he had to be taken elsewhere after the third round of angry chirring when another escape was thwarted.

It was quickly decided that the little jet should have some time outside everyday, and it suited Sideflight just fine. Even being outside for a short while guaranteed a well-behaved sparkling for the remainder of the day. With the Decepticons laying low, the days continued on peacefully for a while longer, and the little jet drew everyone closer together.

It was Bulkhead's turn to watch Sideflight when they were attacked. He had gotten clearance for some time nearby off-base, and had been playing with the tiny Cybertronian for quite a while when a sonic boom sounded overhead. He had barely time to react and pull Sideflight close to him before the seekers fell out of the sky to surround them, with Starscream at the forefront. Sideflight began peeping in distress and confusion as Bulkhead activated one of his blasters. He shot off a priority distress signal and his coordinates when Starscream spoke.

"Hand over the seekerling and we'll offline you quickly,  _Autobot."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jeez Megs, cool your jets. Not sure the jealous rage is necessary. ;D
> 
> Fun fact! When I put out a new chapter, I usually have the next one either written or mostly written and planned out, so I had a good chuckle when I saw the comments on the last chapter. Thank you for those, by the way - those and the kudos are very appreciated. :) 
> 
> I'm off to go suffer through finals week now, hopefully I'll have a less sporadic update schedule soon.


	5. Kin

When the others got there through the space bridge, they were met with a gruesome sight. The last of the seekers and their commander could be seen retreating in the distance, nearly specks on the horizon. Bulkhead sat up against a tree, taking shaky pot shots at the closest fliers while keeping a servo pressed to his side to halt the flow of energon from a grievous wound deep in his side.

The first thing he said upon seeing his comrades was a panicked "They took him!"

 

It was a somber return to base when they realized there was no way they could catch the fliers, and Optimus was devastated. 

 

 In contrast, the mood among the seekers on the Nemesis was jubilant. The new seekerling wasn't any worse for wear; he only had a few scuffs. His body curled tight to Starscream's chest and he stared out at the cooing and chirping mechs around him with fearful optics.

 Starscream was puffed up proud, the whole of his body language screamed victory to the stark contrast of the bitlet clinging to him.

 The hangar was Vos now, and it was as if he had announced the little mech as heir. Designation suggestions began to fly through the air, citing Winglords past, deceased heros both real and imagined - Decepticon and Vosian in origin. Starscream silenced the room with a wave.

 "We will decide his designation in time, my loyal subjects... warriors. But we will do this the  _right_  way; the  _Vosian_  way." He took a moment to gently pet the helm of the young flier in question, as he had quit his distressed peeping to silently regard Starscream as he spoke to the others.

 "This need not be said, but I expect all of you to treat him like one of us, and I will treat him like he was my own creation."

 "Isn't that the case though, Esteemed  _Winglord_  Starscream?" Megatron's voice cut through the gathered mechs and their jovial atmosphere like a plasma knife through protoform, and the majority of the gathered seekers scrambled aside to let him through, for fear of his wrath or sword.

 "Isn't that young seeker  _clutching_  you in such a  _familiar manner_ the product of Optimus Prime and  _yourself_?" Megatron's voice was a deceptively quiet maelstrom of jealous rage. It's softness was the scariest feature, it belied just the level of anger that was flooding through his body.

 The soft whir of Megatron's already spooled up fusion canon that broke the ensuing silence, as Starscream's expression and body language morphed through disgust, fear and revelation. He couldn't decide if he wanted to hold the now very silent infant closer to himself or thrust him off to a nearby seeker, where he would be safer.

 Megatron motioned his head, and Soundwave stepped in behind him with a few grounder eradicons. "Hand over the newspark, Starscream. If you know what's good for him." Starscream's wings moved wildly, but he managed to pull himself into a better state of decorum.

 "My  _Lord!"_  He bit out, unable to hide the desperate edge to his voice. "I did not... I did no such... I never  _fraternized with the enemy!_ " Megatron stared at him in some sort of faux surprise for a moment before letting out a harsh, barking laugh. He came forwards, even closer to them, and the roiling rage that was his EM field caused the infant in question to squeak and roll up in on himself tighter. His weak plating rattled softly in his fear. 

 Silently, Soundwave reached out around Megatron with two tentacles in a silent offer to take the young seeker. 

 Starscream knew what was coming. The fliers assembled knew what was coming. He relinquished his hold on the only being in the room that  _didn't_   know what was to happen and it wasn't even a quarter of an astrosecond that he was clear before a huge silver fist connected with his faceplates.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you weren't attached to your faceplate, Screamer. I'd imagine ol'Buckethead isn't too gentle in the midst of a rage like that one. 
> 
> This was really far shorter chapter than I intended and I'm not completely pleased with it, but between life and July's Nano this update was pushed waaaaay back. I'm likely going to update _this_ fic again in September, since between family visiting and a nine day stint out of town, I'm gonna be obscenely busy in August. :,D Not to mention the tons of other stuff to put out and update -falls over- 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	6. Redirection

There was a slight track worn in the floor from Optimus Prime's pacing. It ran from the main console to the window looking out the front of the hangar to the circuit slab Bulkhead was set up on and back again. The mood about the base was justifiably low, with the Prime waiting for a ransom or gloating or _any_ blessed news about the little sparkling he and his team had grown so attached to. Each day wore thickly on Optimus' nerves and processor. 

Even injured, Bulkhead was kicking himself for allowing the Decepticons to make off with Sideflight, and Ratchet was kicking himself in turn for having missed the signal the little bot gave off that would have marked him as an unaligned Cybertronian. The medic threw himself into working their tech into a state that would allow them to pick up a wider range of signals. Both Ultra Magnus and Wheeljack had suggested attempting to call in for reinforcements - if it was possible to get a signal out to someone in Special Operations, they would come as soon as possible to help with the situation. Arcee and Bumblebee both pointed out in turn that even if someone did receive the message, time was most certainly of the essence. Each passing day could mean a fate more dire for the sparkling.

Optimus could only pray that _if_  they managed to get the little bot back, he would be in enough pieces to put back together. At the same time, he couldn't bring himself to see Megatron actually doing anything to Sideflight that would jeopardize the leverage he'd have over the Autobots. His brother wasn't that far gone yet, was he? The ugly feelings were just exacerbated by the panicking creator protocols at this point and a part of him deep down decided that no, he really couldn't trust Megatron not to do something drastic in waiting for the Autobots to offer ransom. They would have to make the first contact. 

 

Aboard the Nemesis, Megatron could be found toting the tiny jetling around in the crook of his left arm. His time in dealing with the tiny mech the last few days was filled with nothing but a dark, unbridled glee between bouts of ire at the circumstances of his captive's creation. 

Once it was clear that the sparkling was _far_  too comfortable in Soundwave's possession, he had taken him. The mechling was very obviously scared of him, and he reveled in that fear, enjoying the way that direct attention made the little thing curl in on himself and warble in distress. His game continued, pressing down with sheer presence and EM field until the little one fell into an exhausted recharge, too tired to be properly terrified. 

He gave the little mech a short, merciful recharge before coming close to poke him awake, all glowing optics and razor-sharp denta right in view. The sparkling's eyes opened just so before blowing huge in fright and with a high-pitched squeal he reached out and tagged Megatron across the faceplates with all of his tiny clawed fingers. Both flinched back, more out of shock than any sort of pain on Megatron's end. Seemingly emboldened by his attack, the doe-eyed sparkling hissed up at his tyrant captor, his useless, thin armor shifted slightly as if he was trying to flare it and his tiny wings followed suit with a quick series of flutters. A flash of rage tore through Megatron at the insolence, rapidly to be replaced with amusement at a stray thought thread. 

The mechlet had changed it's tune with a little incentive and showed even at his young age the willingness to attack when provoked enough. It would _burn_  Prime to see his only creation molded into a powerful Decepticon warrior, and it would be an equally painful blow for his traitorous second to see the seekerlet constantly be just out of his reach. Seekers did always have some strange fascination with the newly sparked, no matter how one had come about. 

Silly, preening things. 

He would not make such a mistake. Carefully controlling his expression and with an optic kept tight on the tiny mech, he produced an energon cube. Cautious blue optics darted from him to the cube over and over, showing he obviously knew what it was. For a moment he entertained the idea of dunking the little creature into the cube bodily, but as entertaining that would be, he would need to get the little thing to trust him eventually. His longer term plans would be _far_  more satisfying. 

Megatron drained half the cube before rending the top from it and laying the jagged lid on the floor. He suppressed a chuckle at the pathetic attempt at a warning churr that the seekerlet let out when he slid it close. The tiny growls cut off when he poured a portion of the remaining fuel into the makeshift dish and planted himself on the floor. This was a new lesson for the tiny mech, one he would learn or starve; he had not yet earned the right to a hand feeding by _Lord Megatron_.

Little blue optics narrowed at him in suspicion but after a lack of blow back for coming near the energon, the little mech dragged his claws through the fuel to lick it up. Much of it ended up smeared on the little creature's faceplates. When he finished, the jetling slowly moved back from the fuel, optics still locked on the silver behemoth before him. He let out an alarmed hiss as Megatron grabbed him up by the scruff of his neck by sharp forefinger and thumb claws.

A wide, sharp grin split made it's way to Megatron's expression as he recalled his traitorous second's words from his impromptu gathering. "I think you shall be called Vos." 

 

And so, the next few days had the little flier Megatron called Vos as his constant companion. The little mech had been downright bewildered at first, for good reason, but as time marched onwards he warily settled into his spot in the crook of the warlord's arm. He became very quiet unless provoked and got the hang of fueling on his own early. He would attack with tiny claws and teeth if provoked, and was rewarded in kind for it when he did. 

Feeling charitable and ready for the earliest harvest of his small efforts, he had Soundwave release Starscream under condition he was to be confined to the ship or accompanied by eradicons out. The burn of humiliation and anger in those red optics and tightly wound frame was exquisite, he made sure Starscream had plenty of time to see where his little misstep had ended up. Megatron would rear his new Air Commander himself, by Unicron. Tiny Decepticon insignia in purple paint adorned " Vos' " small wings and cockpit by the end of the second day.

Megatron's glee only heightened when Optimus Prime himself hailed the Nemesis some time later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Devious authorial cackling- 
> 
> I just want to say that even though I'm pretty terrible at realizing I have comments until way late, you all are brilliant. 
> 
> AND, I have to say, some of you have been spot on. ;) 
> 
> I also appreciate your patience in my time between updates! I hope to update again before too long, but I'm about to start my Senior year at University so I'm not holding my breath. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	7. Maneuvers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long time no see! 
> 
> Er... Communicate with.
> 
> Alright so here's the deal, that pesky life deal sure has been being pesky, and I've been terribly busy with my coursework and other assorted university things, and I'm happy to report that come June I will be graduating! 
> 
> S o, the next you'll see this updated is then, unless I get lucky and my work lets up, which I don't think it will. :,D 
> 
> This is the first of several small fic updates across my works, as while I have quite a bit done for most of them I've not had the time to edit and refine and hammer them into all that I want. 
> 
> I wanted to give y'all _something_ though, so I figured a short update was better than nothing! ♥ ~~and waaay better than waiting two more months for anything at all.~~ Enjoy!

Megatron's inital glee had been smoothered just slightly when it became apparent that it was not Optimus Prime in actual that was speaking to him over the Nemesis' comm. The pained expression coming through on the recording was delicious enough, but would have been another stroke in his masterpiece for his greatest rival to see how cozy his offspring was now with him and among his crew. He made Starscream stand at his side, the seeker was stiff as a board and obviously expecting the optics that were on him, looking for a reaction.

It was probably for the better that Prime's message was only a recording, as with the appearance of Optimus Prime's visage and the sound of his voice, the little Vosian gave a downright _embarrassing_ display, all reaching claws and whimpering and by the Allspark the _tears_.

Megatron growled his displeasure when the little mech started trying to crawl his way off of Megatron's frame and flexed his plating in a subtle menace that _should_ have been well ingrained at this point. Vos settled back down quickly, wisely silencing himself down to hiccuping whimpers as the rest of the Prime's message played out, asking that Megatron come to meet him at a location to be agreed upon to negotiate on the sparkling's release.

"Please, Megatron." Optimus Prime pleaded at the end of the message. " If there is anything left of the brother I knew in you, you wouldn't hurt Sideflight. He's a non-combatant in our war, and the only one of the new generation yet." The message cut off, and the bridge was quiet for a few scant moments before Starscream _erupted_.

"Sideflight? _Sideflight_?? He possesses the last of the Vosian sparklings and he names him after a slagging _insult_?! Of all the ignorant, _frameist_ filth that could fall from that over-souped push car's dirt kissing intake!!"

He seemed to lose himself in his outrage, certainly he didn't see the devilish grin steal across Megatron's faceplate in his tantrum.

His state of rage must have far superseded his need to keep his frame in one piece, for him to explode in such a manner.

" Your creator is a fool, mechling, and as a subj-" Starscream's tirade came to a halt as rapidly as it had started, as with a twisting turn of his fame he turned to face the little flyer-- and the amused warlord who held him.

Megatron resisted the dark chuckle that threatened to erupt, as Starscream's vocalizer let out a choked fritizing noise as he suddenly -likely- remembered his place. For Megatron, it would serve as Starscream's definite admission of guilt for his dire crime of fraternization despite the weakness of the excuse.

But an excuse it was, and they both knew it.

Starscream's entire body language went docile, his wings snapped down into a submissive cant so quickly that they created a soft gust of wind behind him. He managed a weak, watery smile up at Megatron, even as he slinked back a step- out of the range of his reach.

"A-ah, excuse my...outburst, My lord..." the smile faltered and fell away.

The air of menace grew as Megatron's optics flashed brighter.

Starscream threw out a prayer to Primus... just in case,

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: Planning on both sides, awkward misunderstandings continue, and a confrontation occurs. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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